One More Spark
by MBrabs1996
Summary: After a horrific terrorist attack, John and Sherlock are left caring for two neglected children, who both know just how deeply John and Sherlock love each other and try to get them together. However, when Charlotte goes missing it's up to them to find her before it's too late. Please R&R. Bad at summaries, but the story is better than it sounds :) *Eventual Johnlock*
1. The Case

**A/N: Hey guys! So, this is my first Sherlock fanfiction because I literally just started the show, watched all seasons in one day, so pardon me for not getting how they act right, it usually takes me a few chapters to get their personality right! So, please read and let me know what y'all think!**

John sat at the kitchen table of the flat he shared with Sherlock after having moved back in with him at the beginning of May after he and Mary had broken up. The break up had been on a mutual understanding with both agreeing that they'd be better off as friends, but assuring that John would still be able to see his child even though the doctor had fallen in love with someone else. Someone that although they're eccentric and a complete ass-hat at times, means well and cares about others despite his cold exterior.

Sherlock.

Prior to meeting Sherlock...and much after meeting him, he had been in denial about his sexual orientation and had just recently come to terms with it. Finally realizing that he was alright with being Gay and there was nothing wrong with it.

John remembered the day he and Mary broke up like it was yesterday.

The day he finally came to the realization that he loved Sherlock.

_****Flashback****_

_John met Mary at Richmond park at noon, anxious about what he was about to do._

"_Hello, John. We need to talk." She said, getting up and grabbing his hand, pulling him along before he even had a chance to greet her._

"_Yes, I suppose we do...look, Mary_" He started, only for his fianceé to cut him off._

"_It won't work out," She started, sighing before continuing, "I know you're smitten with someone else. You won't even touch or look at me the same way you did before, and now that Sherlock's back...things have changed."_

_John sighed, "Mary," He started, rubbing a hand through his hair before starting over, "Yes, I have fallen for someone else. I figured it was time to tell you rather than hide it from you, I'm_" He stopped suddenly, cutting himself off as he fought for a way to tell her._

"_Gay. I know. I figured it out for myself once I saw how you looked at Sherlock the same way you used to look at me," she added, not giving John any time to reply before she took off the engagement ring and continued, "I think we need to simply see others so we will both be happy. Don't beat around the bush and tell Sherlock how you feel before it's too late."_

"_But Mary, I still want to be apart of the babies life."_

_Mary smiled, "I know and you still can be. I won't keep our child from seeing their father, regardless of sexual orientation." She answered as she let go of John's hand, giving him the engagement ring before turning on her heel and walking away._

_John was left completely alone._

_****End Flashback**** _

John sighed as he closed the laptop and put his head in his hands.

_Maybe Mary's right. I should tell him how I feel. _He thought, taking his head out of his hands.

"Hey Sher_" He started, only to be cut off by a loud..

_**SMASH!**_

The doctor turned to see a broken mirror lying in pieces on the hard wood floor of the sitting room.

"What in the blazes are you doing!?" He yelled in astonishment, shaking his head as he turned back around.

_**BANG**_

_Great. I think I would much rather pick up glass from the floor than bullet holes in the wall. _He thought, his expression grim as he got up and started to pick up the shards of glass.

"I'm bored," The consulting detective said as he sighed in annoyance, lying down on the couch as he added, "It's been forty-eight hours."

_**BANG**_

_Great. Another hole. That's two holes too many. _

Watson sighed, "I know. Two days since our last case, but, that does not give you the excuse to break a mirror; thoroughly giving yourself seven years of bad luck, and then shoot holes in the wall."

Sherlock laughed.

A laugh that almost made John smile if it weren't for the circumstances.

"Please. You think I truly believe in all that?" Sherlock asked, giving another harsh laugh before shooting another hole in the wall as Mrs. Hudson walked in.

"Well, I am certainly not cleaning this up, young man!" She huffed, hands on her hips as she looked from the two men to the glass on the floor and back to the holes in the wall.

Before either of them could respond,John's phone rang, giving him an opportunity to escape the older woman's withering gaze.

"Hello? Lestrade? What is it?"

Sherlock looked on intently as John paced around the kitchen as he talked to Lestrade, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's death glare.

"You love him, don't you?" She asked, her gaze softening as the detective scoffed.

"Please, Mrs. Hudson," He said, scoffing once more before mumbling, "that really is none of your business." He said, aiming his gun at the wall once more.

The fact Sherlock no longer wanted to talk about it gave her all she needed to know.

John hung up the phone and turned to them, noticing the cold shoulder Sherlock gave the woman that seemed to increase in tension in the time he spent talking to Greg.

"We have a case, Sherlock! We best be going," He said, grabbing Sherlock, who barely had enough time to put his coat on as he added, "we'll clean up the mess when we get back, Mrs. Hudson!"

The two men barely got out the door when Sherlock pulled him free of the doctor's grip.

"I will not go anywhere unless you tell me what the case is." He said, giving his friend a cold glare.

John sighed, giving the other man the two words that would get him moving again.

"Terrorist attack."

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review and if there's anything you'd like to see in this story, please let me know :)**


	2. Charlotte and Christopher

**A/N: Hiya! Firstly, i'd like to thank superwhoolocked for being my first reviewer on this story and I really appreciate it! Let me know what y'all think! **

The two arrived at the subway station and met up with Lestrade and Anderson while Donovan went around questioning anyone who may have seen anything out of the ordinary.

"What exactly happened?" John asked, crossing her arms and looking intently at the carnage.

Sherlock scoffed, "isn't it obvious, John?"

John rolled his eyes and turned back to look at Phil and Greg.

"There were three bombs. All detonated within minutes of each other and that's as much as we know at this point."

"How many casualties?" Sherlock asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the station that was almost completely destroyed and the other detectives.

"Too many to say. I estimate about seventy fatalities and about fifteen others critically injured." Anderson said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"There are witnesses," Sherlock started, completely disregarding what Anderson said, about to continue when John cut him off.

"How do you know? Everyone that could be witnesses are either dead or being taken to the nearest hospital!" He exclaimed, following the other mans gaze as they settled on two children, being looked over in a nearby ambulance and talking to Sally.

"Yes, those two children are among the few who witnessed what happened. They're in shock, so don't...be yourself. Be your happier, nicer self that we know you're capable of." Greg explained, watching in interest as they walked over to the children.

"We'll take it from here, Sally." John said, looking at her as she rolled her eyes and turned back to the girl.

"Good luck with Freak." She said, walking briskly over to Anderson and Lestrade.

Both men ignored Donovan's comment and shook the girls bony, pale hand.

"Hello, I'm John and this is Sherlock Holmes. What's your name?" The doctor asked, looking her over worriedly. The girl appeared to be just eight-years-old and very underweight for her age, whilst her brother appeared to be five and fairly normal looking.

"Charlotte Clarice," She started, not bothering to give a last name as her voice shook with each word she spoke, "but my friends call me Charlie. This is my brother, Christopher." She added, cringing as a paramedic dabbed some anti-biotic cream over the gash on her forehead.

"And what of your parents? Are they as selfish as they seem?" Sherlock asked, clasping his hands in front of him, watching as Christopher's upper lip quivered and Charlotte's eyes dilated, her breathing becoming more rapid.

"Sherlock!" John scolded, mentally slapping himself in the face at how the detective couldn't act differently in front of children.

"T-They're...nice...I can't f-find them." She stuttered, the breeze blowing a strand of her brown hair into her eyes, her natural sandy blonde highlights more prominent in the light.

"Well, judging how Christopher is about to start sobbing hysterically, along with the fact that your eyes dilated at the mention of them, along with the stuttering when you answered me...it's safe to say you and your brother don't have a very good relationship with them." He explained, his green-blue eyes boring into her brown ones as she shook her head.

John sighed and grabbed an anti-biotic wipe from a paramedic and began tending to the wounds on Christopher's face and hands, giving the boy a soft smile as carefully pulled a piece of shrapnel out of the cut on his cheek, ruffling his dark brown hair when he was done and turned back to his friend.

"Please, Sherlock. We can talk about this later." He said, glaring at Sherlock, who still looked cooly at the eight-year-old, who started to hyperventilate.

"And based off the heavy breathing, you're either anxious or asthmatic." He said, his gaze softening when Charlotte struggled to answer.

Gently, he grabbed her hands and smoothed back her caramel hair as he knelt down to her height of just three foot nine.

"Charlotte," Sherlock started, lowering his voice for only her to hear, "Charlie, look at me. Don't look at anything else; not the subway, or worry about Christopher. Eyes on me and focus on your breathing, can you do that?" He asked, brushing the tears from her eyes as she nodded.

Sherlock and John grew more concerned with each passing minute that Charlotte couldn't breathe, her breath only slowing down briefly before picking back up again.

"Here, try this." Julia, the youngest paramedic said, passing an albuterol tube to John, who passed it to Sherlock.

"Do you know how to_" John started to ask, only for Sherlock to cut him off.

"Of course I know how to use it! I've been around asthmatics before, John!"

John shook his head, smiling at the consulting detective.

Sherlock ignored it and placed it over the girls nose and mouth, constantly looking around as Charlotte breathed in and out, taking in the albuterol.

"Stop looking at me like that." He mumbled, his eyes widening as he looked towards the wreckage and saw a young woman being pulled from it and being brought towards another ambulance.

The blonde hairstyle was all too familiar.

"John John John!" He said, whacking him in the shoulder each time he said his name.

"Ow! What?" He asked, taking the cloth away from Christopher's face as he rubbed his aching shoulder, following Sherlock's concerned gaze.

Doing a double take, he abruptly stood up, eyes widening when he saw the woman being lifted into the far off ambulance.

A woman he hadn't seen in almost three months.

Mary.

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review :) **


	3. Discussions and Concerns

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's the next chapter and I hope y'all like it!**

While John went to ask for news on Mary, Sherlock stayed with the two children, pacing around the room with only the occasional glance at the children.

"Thanks." Christopher said, looking up at him as he added, "for helping."

That was the first time since the attack that the five-year-old had spoken.

Sherlock only grumbled in response before taking a sip of his coffee that had been provided by the nurses as Charlotte turned to speak to him, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask placed over her nose and mouth, silently pleading with her eyes for him to take it off.

Sherlock sighed and gently took the mask off, placing it so that it lay on the girls small chest so she could use it if needed.

"Where is he? Your boyfriend?" She asked as he took another sip from his coffee, only to choke on it when he processed what she said, shocked an eight-year-old even knew of such things.

"He's merrily a friend. Nothing more." He said, giving her a cold glare as she smirked at him.

"I see," she coughed, "I see the looks. John looked at you the way mummy and daddy used to look at each other before daddy became a meany." She added.

"And _daddy dearest _became a so-called _meany _from alcohol when you were two. Been emotionally abusing you ever since, with the occasional physical abuse, while your mother just stood by, terrified of him." He stated, once again deducing the child as he had done at the wreckage of the subway station.

Charlotte nodded, "he called me and Chrissy bad names! And once, he got so mad...he hit my head against the wall _really _hard. But you're changing the subject! I want to know if you _like like _John." She said, her face growing red in annoyance.

"Well, suppose I am. What will a child such as yourself do about it?" He asked, trying not to let the girl know how stressed she was making him.

She giggled as she and Chris began to sing, "John and Sherlock sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S_"

Both children were cut off by Sherlock placing a hand over Christopher's mouth while he placed the oxygen mask back on Charlottes face with his free hand.

That was when John walked in.

"Why is your hand over Christopher's mouth? And why does Charlotte still have that horrid mask on now that she's awake? Breathing troubles?" John asked, looking at the detective, who still had his hand over Chris's mouth.

Quickly, he grabbed his cup of coffee and took his hand off the boys mouth and walked over and sat down.

"No," Sherlock said as he grabbed a news paper from the basket beside him and flipped it open to a random page, "they were being irksome." He finished, watching as John sighed and took the mask off the eight-year-olds face.

"How's Mary?" The detective asked, not taking his eyes off the paper in front of him.

"The doctor won't know anything until they run some tests, which could take a few hours. Said we should go home and he'll call if anything happens...Sherlock, may I speak with you alone?" He asked, earning something of a mix between a sigh and a grumble as he got up and followed the doctor, closing the door tightly behind him.

"What is it?" He asked once they got to a dimly lit hallway a little bit aways from Charlotte's room.

"I spoke with Greg and they found two other bodies. Charlotte and Christopher's parents, presumably, and they...well.."

"They're what? Going to send them to an orphanage? Those kids would be better off." Sherlock answered, scanning his surroundings to make sure not a soul was listening in.

"No. Since those two are witnesses to this...this...heinous crime, Greg wants them to move in with us for a short while."

Sherlock scoffed, "oh please! You and I both know that Lestrade's definition of a short while is much more different than ours."

John glared at him, although he wasn't the least bit shocked at the consulting detectives attitude.

"Please, Sherlock. They could very well become targets, and you damn well know that."

The other man placed his hand on the white, sterile wall to steady himself and sighed for the umpteenth time that day.

"No."

"Sherlock! Lestrade ordered it! He wants us to keep a close eye on them during this investigation!" John said, raising his voice only to lower it when he saw doctors and patience staring, "Please, Sherlock. Lestrade doesn't ask for a lot, but he is asking for us to watch those children."

Sherlock gave him his, '_that's a bunch of bullshit' _look before his expression softened at the pleading look in John's eyes.

Before he could say anything, however, a doctor walked up to the pair.

"Hello, I'm Mary's doctor, may I speak with you, Mr. Watson?"

John nodded, shaking the doctors hand and sharing one last look with Sherlock before following the doctor a little ways over to the vacant reception desk

Sherlock watched the exchange between John and the doctor, half expecting the man to cry, but what he didn't expect was for John to tense up and slam his hand down on the desk and briskly walk through the double doors in the opposite direction from which they came.

_This is definitely not good._

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review :)**


	4. Attempts

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's the next chapter so I hope y'all like it! P.S. Sorry for the very...not original title of this chapter. It's hard to come up with names for them! You'll see why I called it "Attempts" later on.**

Sherlock searched throughout the whole second floor looking for John, running as fast as he could to Charlotte's room to find Lestrade and Donovan with the eight-year-old.

"Where," He started, panting heavily, "is John?" He finished, catching his breath.

"Your boyfriend? I don't know." Charlotte said, giving an innocent smile at the shocked expressions that registered on Greg and Sally's features.

"He. Is not. My. Boyfriend...have you seen him? I know you have, I can tell you're lying."

Before the child could respond, running followed by a loud thud could be heard from the third floor right above them, almost as if someone was running too fast and tripped.

"Why would John be going up for?" Sally asked as all of them exchanged looks.

Sherlock's eyes widened as realization hit him.

_The roof! _

Giving no explanation, he bolted out of the room as he yelled, "He's heading up to the roof!"

Sherlock ran as fast as he could up the stairs with Lestrade and Donovan out on his heels, climbing the stairs two at a time as they tried to catch up to John before he did anything stupid.

* * *

John made it up to the roof trying to catch his breath as he slowly made his way towards the ledge, looking down at the busy street below.

John sighed a shaky breath, remembering how just two short years ago it had been Sherlock standing on this exact same ledge, and it had been him standing on the street below as he watched Sherlock plummet to the hard concrete ground below. Only Sherlock had faked his death, causing him nightmares almost every single night, re living that day over and over again. John had made a promise to himself that he would never try suicide as a way out.

_Promises are often broken...and this won't be faked. _He thought, taking a deep breath as he stepped on the ledge.

The doctor took off his jacket as he prepared to jump.

However, just as he was about to jump and plummet to the cold, hard ground below, someone grabbed him from behind and forcefully dragged him as far away from the ledge as possible and throwing him flat on his back.

"Are you bloody mad!? You're so stupid! You could have actually killed yourself if I hadn't showed up in time!" A voice yelled, no doubt furious.

Sherlock.

"Maybe I am. Maybe i'm not. Never stopped you though...you did it to be selfish." John said bitterly, sitting up as he breathed another shaky breath.

"I may be a natural selfish person, but If you think for a second that I did it to be selfish, you are sadly mistaken! I faked it to protect you, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade! You on the other hand were actually going to do it like the idiot you are!" He yelled, only becoming angrier with John, no matter how much Sherlock was angry with him at this moment, he made a promise to himself that he'd never hit him seeing as most of the time John had the right to be angry at him.

John sighed, "do you not realize all the pain you put me through? I believed it was my fault and visited your grave every day! I had nightmares and constantly relived your _death _every night for christ sakes, and then you came back like nothing ever happened! What's so different if I do it and it isn't faked!?" John yelled, wiping his hand over his blonde hair before putting his head in his hands and letting the tears fall.

"I apologize for all that pain I put you through, but you don't exactly know half of what went on in those two years! Would you like me to go through the same? The constant guilt and nightmares?"

"No," John said, looking back up at him, "I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

"That is exactly what happens when someone commits suicide! Everyone blames themselves," Sherlock exclaimed, not as angry as he had been when he first came up to the roof, "why did you want to do it?" He asked, sitting down beside John as he waved away to Greg and Sally, urging them to leave.

"I guess I just wanted a way to end the pain! I killed people when I was a soldier, Sherlock, and that guilt will live with me for the rest of my life. Mary lost the baby and wants nothing to do with me anymore. She hates me and believe's it's my fault. Maybe it is my fault. Maybe everything's my fault."

Sherlock rubbed his temples, trying to get the headache that was already forming to go away.

"Well, Mary is an imbecile for believing it's your fault. Truth be told, you can do so much better than her." He said, squeezing his friends shoulder reassuringly.

John gawked at him, shocked to hear those words come out of Sherlock's mouth.

"What?" Sherlock asked, helping John up.

"Nothing..i've never heard you say something so...assuring before."

Sherlock shrugged as they made their way back down the stairs.

"I have my days."

John said nothing else as the two continued to walk down the stairs in silence, neither daring to say a word to the other until they were met at the bottom by Lestrade and Donovan.

"Everything alright?" Sally asked, placing a comforting hand on John's shoulder.

"Sergeant Donovan, why don't you bring John to the cafeteria and get some coffee? I need to speak with Sherlock on some...pressing matters." Lestrade said, allowing for Sally to usher John towards the lift to head down to the first floor.

"Does he know?" Greg asked, lowering his voice for only Sherlock to hear.

Sherlock tensed up at the question, giving the other detective a cold look before turning to make sure John and Sally had left before shaking his head.

"You need to tell him. About Mary and what happened when you were dead. If you won't, have Mary tell him because he needs to hear it from her.

Once again, Sherlock shook his head.

"I will, when he isn't so...upset. On one condition, you have to give Anderson his job back. He was the first to arrive at the subway station and was adamant that I was alive. Only thing I ask of you."

"But you hate Anderson!"

"No, I don't hate him. We just don't see eye to eye, nor am I excited about his existence some days, but he deserves it."

Greg sighed, "Alright, Philip will get his job back, but when will you tell John?" He asked, crossing his arms and glowering at the younger man.

"Soon."

**A/N: Sorry if the characters were a little OOC! I wanted a some what nice Sherlock in this chapter where he has these very rare days that he's nice and isn't so..eccentric or arrogant and narcissistic I should say. Let me know what y'all think! Please review :)**


	5. Sneaky Children & Falls

**A/N: Well, here's the next chapter! I hope y'all like it and I apologize for being MIA the last few days. School is just kicking my ass lately. But oh my god His Last Vow was epic, and I will incorporate some things from his last vow into this story though, like explanations and all that.**

That night, once they had been checked over by the hospital staff, John and Sherlock brought Charlotte and Christopher back to their flat where both children spent a long time looking around with a constant reminder from Sherlock not to touch anything.

"Why are there holes in the wall?" Charlotte asked, looking inquisitively at the two men.

"Sherlock tends to...shoot things...when he gets bored." John said, nodding over to Sherlock, who grumbled in response and sat down at the table.

"Where are me and Chris going to sleep?" She asked, looking back at Sherlock after examining the small flat.

"Well, you two can sleep in my bedroom and I will make myself comfortable in the spare. How does that sound?" John asked, kneeling down to the girl's height.

Charlotte sighed, "Or Christopher can have your room, I can take the spare, and you can share a room with him?" She asked, nodding her head at the detective.

John sighed and looked over his shoulder at Sherlock, who glared at the child, knowing exactly what she was trying to do.

"Well, I think that's a fine idea. What about you, Sherlock?"

Sherlock grumbled once more and looked at John, a cold look in his bright blue eyes as he got up and steadied himself on the table, obviously still hurting from that time Mary shot him shortly before she and John had broken up.

"Yes, I suppose it is." He said, knowing there was no point in arguing with John nor the child without having to explain why or making his love for the doctor so obvious.

Charlotte smiled innocently at the two men as she skipped down the hall and entered John's room, shutting the door tightly behind her before crawling under the covers and letting her mind wander as she drifted off to sleep, occasionally waking up in the middle of the night to John opening the door a crack and checking on her before closing it and repeating the process with Christopher.

* * *

Sherlock awoke the next day a little after eight, which was rather late for him as he was usually awake a little before seven. The detective sat up, ready to take on the case of the subway terrorist attack, but first had to pay a visit to Mary, who was currently still at the hospital and was partially the reason for making John attempt suicide.

His John.

If there was one thing that Sherlock hated, it was when others made John feel inferior to them. Although he was an asshole at time, Sherlock would never stoop so low unless the situation absolutely called for it.

The detective sighed and threw the covers off him, getting up and painfully stretching out before making his way to the dresser...but he didn't make it very far when he tripped over something...or someone and fell not only on top of them, but on his bullet wound as well, making him groan in pain.

"Ow! What in the bloody hell was that for!?" John asked, pushing Sherlock off him and rubbing the part of his back that had been fallen on, whilst Sherlock held his still very sore stomach.

"Well, you shouldn't have fallen asleep there!" He snapped, getting up and wrapping one of his bed sheets around himself as he helped the doctor up.

"Where would I have fallen asleep!? It's your bedroom!" John exclaimed, raising his voice ever so slightly as Sherlock finally made it to his dresser to dress.

"Maybe in my bed? Where it's bloody comfortable!" Sherlock snapped, regretting the words the minute he said them.

John nodded, "Well, I guess i'll sleep there tonight then, won't I?

Sherlock only gave a slight nod before leaving the room and heading into the kitchen where he saw a smiling Charlotte pouring tea whilst Christopher was half asleep in John's chair.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing." She said, picking up two cups of tea and handing them to the two men before pouring some for herself and her brother.

"Where's Mrs. Hudson? Usually she brings the tea."

"Well, whatever the case may be, Sherlock, it was awfully nice of Charlie to make us some."

Charlotte shook her head.

"No sir. Mrs. Hudson made it and I just brought it up here."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, looking at the girl suspiciously.

John glared at him and shook his head.

"I offered."

"She's being nice, Sherlock, so just drop it."

"Well I_"

John cut him off speaking through gritted teeth, "Drop. It."

Sherlock scoffed, "She isn't nice. She's just being a manipulative, evil little girl."

Before anyone could say anything else on the matter, Sherlock got up and walked briskly out the door, nearly knocking a lamp over in his haste.

"I apologize about him. Sherlock isn't used to children being here. I'm sure he'll come around."

Charlotte shrugged, "It's fine. I'm used to it anyway since everybody finds me rather annoying." She said, sighing solemnly as she picked up Sherlocks cup and placed it on the counter.

John looked at her with sad blue eyes, feeling bad for the small girl. Charlotte doesn't understand what it was like to have a family where both parents loved her unconditionally. Instead, she had a depressed, distant mother and an alcoholic, emotionally-sometimes physically-abusive father and Christopher was still young enough that he wouldn't remember much as he got older.

Christopher would remember very little to almost nothing about his parents or his fathers abuse, but Charlotte would have those memories forever.

_But both are very mature for their ages._

"Sorry. I don't mean to be a bother." She said, pulling John back out of his thoughts.

"Don't be sorry, Charlie, you aren't a bother at all. To Sherlock? Yes, but he'll get over it. He's a drama queen anyway."

Charlotte smiled at that before John got up and grabbed both of the children's coats and nudging Christopher awake.

"Now, how about we go out for a bit?"

Charlotte gave a grateful smile.

"Yes. Let's go out."

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review :)**


	6. Confessions

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile, here's the next chapter and I hope y'all like it! In this story, it kind of takes place during His Last Vow. So it's the beginning of July that this happens, John and Mary ended their relationship a month earlier and Charles is still alive if I haven't already mentioned that. Takes place before His Last Vow.**

Sherlock walked into Mary's room at St. Barts hospital, giving a stern look in her direction as she took a cup of tea from one of the nurses that checked her vitals.

"Sherlock. Nice to see you again, what brings you here?" Mary asked sitting up in the bed.

"Wish I could say the same to you. Tell me, did you ever think about how John would be effected if you told him you lost the baby?" He asked, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her, hands clasped in his lap.

"I_I don't know what you're talking about." She said, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring at him.

"Oh please, don't act so stupid! Had you lost the baby, you'd be inconsolable much like John was. You forget that i'm quick and can tell that you're still pregnant and keeping another secret."

Mary gawked at him.

"How_" She started, only for Sherlock to cut her off.

"How did I know? Yes, well it isn't that hard. You're awfully pale, a clear indicator that you recently got sick and you're scratching at your stomach, indicating that there must be wires attached, plugged into that monitor to your left that you're so anxiously looking at. Shall I continue?" He asked, smirking at Mary's shocked expression, "Now tell me, why?"

Mary sighed and reached under her hospital gown and carefully took the wiring off her stomach and the IV drip from her hand, standing up and sitting down in a chair at the window.

"Shortly after I woke up, I had a visitor. He told me that even though John and I weren't together anymore, that I had to stop having any contact with John or he'd kill me, the baby, and you two." She said, sighing as she took a sip of her tea.

"Who was it?"

"Pardon?"

"Who was it? Who threatened you?"

She shook her head, "I'm not at liberty to say. It was a man that brought a message to me from their friend, but I don't know who the friend was, and he agreed with his friends message." She answered, staring at her lap and refusing to meet Sherlock's gaze.

"Well, because of your stunt, John attempted suicide yesterday. You had no problem shooting me, but you might as well have just shot John instead!" He snapped, sarcasm dripping in his tone.

"I still feel bad about what happened...I think about that all the time, ever since it happened a few weeks ago, but I was only protecting John just as I did yesterday when I told him I lost the baby and no longer wanted to see him. You have to understand that." Mary said, her head snapping up at the last word as she let what else Sherlock had said sink in, "did you just say_"

"Yes I do understand, but John attempted suicide because he believed your "miscarriage" was his fault. The fact that you supposedly never want to see him again suggests that there's something else, but I don't understand what else there is to hide. Do you still love him? Is that it?"

Mary shook her head, "No, I don't...well, I do, but as a friend now. Besides, he loves someone else, and before you ask, i'm not at liberty to tell you who he loves. And no, i'm not hiding anything else." She explained, fidgeting as she said it.

"Interesting, you still continue to lie. Do you know who it was that paid you a visit?"

Mary sighed, "Yes, I do. I've known him since I was around twenty and he's...he's got a lot of information on me that could send me to prison. I'm pretty sure by now that you know who i'm talking about?"

"Yes, I have my suspicions, but I want to hear it from you." He started, leaning forward so he was no less than three inches from her face, "Now tell me. Who was it?" He asked for the umpteenth time, his gaze never leaving her blue eyes.

"Charles Magnussen."

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review :)**


	7. Secrets

**A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated the last few days. Exams have started so i've been stressed lately, so here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

Sherlock almost looked taken aback at the name that came out of Mary's mouth.

"I'm sorry, but did you just say Charles Magnussen?" Sherlock asked slowly, not wanting to believe it.

Mary nodded, "Yes. Charles Augustus Magnussen, he has information on me that could put me in prison."

"And he's told you this?"

"Yes, when he came to visit me...he told me that he had a friend that would have no problem killing you two and those children after i'd gone to prison." She said as a nurse came in, getting up and getting back in the bed and allowing the nurse to reattach the wires and monitor.

"We can help you, Mary. You don't have to be afraid, and there can still be a way that John can see his own child. You can't keep the child from seeing their father, as you told him a month ago, was it June? Yes, I believe it was!" He snapped, standing up and moving towards the door.

"No one can help me."

Sherlock sighed, "Well, whenever you would like that help, we have the same address; and in the bedside table you will find a map labeled with all the security camera Magnussen and my brother have around the whole city. Charles will have never known that you stopped by." He said, leaving the room and closing the door tightly behind him, unaware he was being watched.

* * *

Meanwhile, John was at the store with Charlie and Chris, grabbing the food and the milk that Sherlock had always said he would pick up but never did.

"You like him." She stated, her small bony arm hooked in his.

"Who? Sherlock?"

Charlotte nodded, "I see it when you look at each other. Why do you not tell him?"

John sighed, "It isn't that easy, Charlie. I don't know if Sherlock even likes...erm...guys."

"Yes he does, I know he does, just tell him how you feel. Sherlock really cares about you if he stopped you from hurting yourself really bad." She said, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

"Well, he's a really good friend."

Charlie scoffed, "Please, you're in love, you two just won't admit it."

John looked at her, quite perplexed.

"When did you become such a mature young lady?"

Charlotte shrugged, "I had to...for Chris," She started, sighing as she added, "You might wanna ask Sherlock what he's hiding from you. I saw him talking to Greg, and neither looked very happy."

* * *

Sherlock sat in the kitchen with various body parts, doing some type of experiment when John returned with the children, looking up from the severed arm when John sighed, seemingly annoyed, and looked at him.

"What are you hiding?"

**A/N: Let me know what y'all think! Please review :)**


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